The Dreamer
by dorayin12
Summary: It is like a monologue. But I imagined a scene that Fon is talking with a psychologist who is doing his/her research project about the dreams dreamed by people who lost their loved one. The format might be hard to understand. I'm a Chinese speaker. Sorry for the linguistic mistakes in it.


Good morning. Is it OK for me to come in? Thank you. I think it might be a little bit earlier and I hope I will not disturb your work.

You're welcome. It's my pleasure to do something for your project.

Psychological research is supposed to help the others in difficulties. That's why I accepted your request. Please feel free to ask me question. Thank you. I'm fine. Please don't worry about me. It occurred several years ago and now, it has passed.

Oh, tea, please. I prefer green tea. Thank you. Actually, I have no specific preference for tea, even though I'm a Chinese.

You mean him? He was almost addicted in Coffee, especially Espresso. He never cared about his intake of Caffeine. It's crucial for him to keep sane, I definitely knew. But I thought he liked to hear me to complain about that. That was the reason why I him told again and again, even though I had a whole bunch of coffee in my cupboard.

Yes, it is in Hong Kong. He used to come there. Sometimes he drank tea with me at my home, where was the only place he didn't need to be in tension.

Sorry but no, according to him.

You think it does not hear like his words? But it actually was. He was an ordinary man like everyone else. Do you want to guess which one he preferred to be, the adult or infant?

The further question is: do you know why?

Sure, those all his reasons. It's not very hard to imagine. But here's one nobody knows. He only talked to me.

He said: "I'm able to hug you only when the curse is lifted."

You know infants' arms were too short and...eh, It seems like you don't believe that.

It was true. Of course memory will be subsided, reconstructed, mediated or even redefined as the time going on. I'm trying hard to recall every detail and reappear the scene with his original words. Please believe me for the sake that I still remember all my martial arts. And you know, they had equal importance for me.

Sorry, I might be over reacting. It's not appropriate for an old man. Please forget it.

Um...It's a broad question. He was the best hit man in the world. He was an unbelievable genius. You might find I assert it boastfully, but he's even better than the top one nowadays. He was an excellent tutor. I knew his students when they were teenage. Yes, we know each other very well. They became old, too.

Sorry, I didn't intend to skirt that issue. I may say it is hard for me to give you a whole idea about him. I will say that he was complicated and mysterious in people's eyes because he tended to do everything without explaining his intentions, no matter whether they were beneficial or not. He's just like to see things going on well under his control. He never kept in mind that people around could not understand him. He always did what he thought was right.

No, I never go hardness in understanding him. He was considerate as a hitman, but simultaneously frank as a man. He was that kind of man who was always sticking to his principles and never lied.

No, he never lied. He just kept secret and failed in expressing his emotion.

For me, his point was easy to catch. You might think it was intuition, but when I retrospect, I'd rather to say my understanding towards came from our intimacy and following his logic. Nothing special. Sometimes he didn't like that.

But that was why he chose me.

He never said that, I knew, however, because that was also my reason.

The man like him, so strong and independent, still sought for whom to open his heart. That might be a reasonable explanation of our relationship.

Oh, thank you for your eulogy. Thank you. I think I can keep going.

Honestly, I have not dreamed him for a long time. I even didn't dream much when I was young. You know that people studying martial arts are featured with the "empty mind" which requires keeping inner peace. Traditionally, dreaming is connected with unstable mind. At that period, sleeping time was so limited that it passed without sensing the dreams. Sorry, I talked too much. I dreamed him more frequently after he passing away than these following years. In my country, dream is analogized as the morning dew for its speedy disappearing. Some of them are vaguer than the early memory with him. I'll recall all I remember and I hope it might be what you need. You are always welcome to intervene and ask questions.

I often dreamed if he was still alive at the very beginning. I remember in one dream we came to Venice. No, it was not about Carnival. He did not like crowded places after getting back his body.

It was a very peaceful afternoon. We took a black gondole and went through the streets and rivers of the city. We heard the boatman singing barcarole and he changed the song ever time making turn of the corner. It's like the old days.

Yes, we were young in that dream. Almost thirty, I think. We've been to Venice twice or more. I cannot remember. He engaged himself in his work after lifting the curses and usually didn't take a rest the whole year. Therefore, we have not been with each other for a long time.

I will say no. He loved life. That was the way he enjoyed it.

Our daily life was the whole content of my dream at that time. Very ordinary scenes, no fantastic. He and I rambled in Palermo or Hong Kong. Holding hands. And talking something. Sorry I couldn't remember, but they were some leisure conversations without special sense. I remember in one dream, we talked about his sickness. He said that he was fully recovered, but he felt terrible to see that I was ill, even though it was just like a cold or some tiny little things. We were very happy. His smiling face is still in my mind.

Sorry, but could I have some tea? My throat is dry. Thank you.

I kept dreaming like that, even though I arranged...um...Sorry, I don't know how to say it. In China, people do ceremony every seven days after their relatives passing away. We call it "Seven" in Chinese. Yes, it is not an Italian convention. So I arranged five ceremonies for me only by myself. Definitely, they were not as formal as in China. I held flowers and came to his tomb. That's all.

I often go to see him. That is the most peaceful place in the world for me.

Sorry, let me come back. The first time I dreamed that he passed away was exactly on the fifth seven-the 35th days after his death. I dreamed that I came to Palermo and lay on a bed. That was not his house. It was an apartment I newly rented, but I had no idea about it. I lay and thought what I should do in Palermo. Many things came into my mind but not a single thing draw my interest. That was not like me because normally, I would not think about the word like "interesting". Unexpectedly, I thought "why don't I come to his place?" And another idea rushed into my brain immediately. I thought:"he was not here anymore. What could I do to come to his house?" Then I woke up. That was the first time I admitted his death in my dream.

Yes, it was a long process. I watched too much death and I had anticipated that I would not be moved by the loss of life. Actually I didn't cry in his funeral. I think he would not, too. We were the same people.

However, the dream reminded me that it really took me time to accept that.

You're right. After that, I never dreamed as if he was alive. Even though he was accompanying with me and did usual things, I knew he died.

Yes, in all dreams, I knew he's already died.

Most of them happened in his house. I didn't know what he was. But I knew he was not a ghost or something else. He's there, in the house, talked, walked, and sat, like what we did when we were young, but I knew he died.

I knew it was him, but he's died.

In one of the dreams, he hugged and patted me. He said:"Not be so sad." Actually, we didn't console each other when he was alive. We knew we didn't need that. But I cried in his embrace in the dream and the tears couldn't stop after the returning of consciousness. In another dream, I dreamed in a dream. Let's call the dream nearer to the reality as the 1st dream and the one in it as the 2nd dream. In the 2nd dream, he was alive and I believed that. Then he said that he was completely cured. At once, the "I" in the 1st dream knew that I was dreaming. I cried in the 2nd dream but nobody noticed that. In addition, I didn't wake from the 1st dream.

Thank you. It's an old story. People need to move on, don't they?

The time of my dreams stayed in the period before our being cursed. We knew each other and completed task with other five. That was the happiest time. We were young, strong, unencumbered and enjoyed everything we had. But the curse changed a lot, including him.

No, I don't mean his affection. Year and year, we got older and older inside of the infants' bodies which were never changed. He was more sensitive and prouder than me. He suffered.

Sorry, I'm straying from the point again.

The last dream about him in my memory was also in his house. I dreamed that Tsuna-kun failed with an important test and was so depressed. He was fourteen-years old-the age we first met in Japan. I tried to ease him. Later he appeared at the door and said "don't worry" to Tsuna-kun. He was so real that I could feel his presence. He was more realistic than all I dreamed before. He stood stably, suited up, smiled and said everything smoothly. His face was rosy and eyes were bright. I stood there starkly and couldn't move. He was so real that I didn't know whether he was an illusion, he has never gone, or he came back specially. My belief was suspected for the first time I admitted his leaving.

Thank you. I'm fine. Believe me.

I was almost sober as his appearance. Half of me was in the dream and another part was in the reality. I could see both the scenes in the dream and in my bedroom. The "I" in the dream didn't cry and knew that it was the "I" in the reality cried. And the "I" in the reality also conceived himself as the "I" who was crying. But after totally waking up, I found my face was dry. And when I opened the eyes, the tears were filling under the eyelids and dropped down.

Sure, I've also never seen crying like this before.

Psychology says that dream is governed by the sub-consciousness and consciousness controlled human's sober condition. I'm not the expert. Given the dream, I'm thinking that there is "something" between sub- and consciousness. It is more potential in the brain and covered by both of them. In my dream, the "I" who actually cried deceived the "I" in the dream and the "I" in the reality. The three "I"s exist at the same time. All of them knew he has passed away. That reminds me with the dream in dream I said before. Is it about the layers of sub-consciousness?

Does it make sense? Is it confused?

Yeah, he knew how to read minds and those were borrowed from him. Yeah, he taught me lot.

Maybe. Eh, two of them contain more elements than the others. The dream in dream and the last one.

I hope that could help you with your project and the people who were in the trauma of loss. I appreciate your patience. I've thought to take them with me into the tomb.

I don't know whether I will dream him or not. I'll tell you if I have other dreams that value.

Thank you for your tea. By the way, could I ask a question? I think you may know since you are a psychological professor.

Do you know in how many layers of the sub-consciousness muss I self-confirm his passing away and how many "I" muss do the self-confirmation?

Thank you all the same.

[END]

The author died.


End file.
